


I'll Never Grow Bored With You

by effystonem



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Life at Baker Street, Love, M/M, No Dialogue, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effystonem/pseuds/effystonem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes. A look at life in 221B now that Sherlock and John are a couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Never Grow Bored With You

01.

Sherlock Holmes is running out of languages in which to express his love. It started out simple, before Sherlock could admit to himself how he felt about John Watson. It started with unspoken gratitude that John  _killed_ a man for Sherlock mere hours after they first met. It was there at the pool, gut-wrenching and painfully tight. Sherlock's love translated through his thin pale fingers working quickly to rid John's body of the bombs. It wasn't a language John could read yet.

And now, he said it nearly every day.

~~_I love you. Je t'aime. Ich liebe dich. Te amo. Szeretlek. Ti amo. Jeg elsker dig._ ~~

Words were no longer enough, and so Sherlock invented his own languages: hair-pulling, scratching.  _ ~~You're mine, you're mine, you're mine.~~  _Feet entangled at the end of a bed, sleepy shared showers, snuggling into John's jumpers on the couch.  _ ~~God, I'm yours. You can have me anyway you want me.~~  _Shining triumph at the end of a spectacular case, a cloudy look that came into Sherlock's eyes whenever he felt particularly proud of himself that meant he was going to be incredibly possessive and press John up against the wall and bruise him with kisses.

As time passed, words were hardly even needed. Days could go by in the flat with no talking, all communication done through the passing of tea mugs and lingering kisses and the smell of John's soap. 

 

02.

John sometimes wonders if his life is too good to be true. He thinks that maybe, possibly, he was killed in Afghanistan. That all of this, his new reality, is just a magnificent and stunningly elaborate afterlife he's constructed for himself. The only thing that dispels his theory is the fact that he battles with death so often. Aside from that, though, his every day life is... something. Really something. He wakes up in the morning next to a tall, slightly dishevelled, gorgeous genius. He spends the day solving crimes with said genius, running through back alleys and gasping for breath and risking his life, witnessing amazing shows of wits and brilliant deductions. Sometimes the royal family asks for help, or Chinese smugglers try to kill him, or his consulting detective's terrifying but less-than-intimidating-at-this-point brother comes to call. He comes home and writes about it on his popular blog. And then, at the end of all that, he knows that his genius has never loved anyone else, much less loved them to the extent that he loves John. 

His life has sobering moments, surely. The sharp stab of pain in his core that comes whenever Sherlock comes too close to death or is injured during a case. Sherlock's manic mannerisms and struggles with addiction. His relationship with his own sister, the estranged alcoholic. Bland days at the surgery. Coming home to find his belongings strewn about the flat or his things destroyed or body parts stashed in various appliances.

John's reality was mad, surely, often hard to handle, but there was one thing that you could never call it: boring.

When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield, but when you love Sherlock Holmes, you see the universe. 

 

03.

Sherlock has experienced many things that he hadn't expected to experience. Falling in love, for example, had been completely out of the question until a certain army doctor appeared in his life. He certainly hadn't expected to experience the _physical bits._ Sherlock had been kissed before, and even kissed others, but it rarely did anything for him. It was boring and utterly pedestrian. That being said, kissing John was different. Kissing John was never boring, whether the kiss was deep and slow, or passionate and fast-paced, or chaste and affectionate, or lingering with that deep undertone that always said 'I care about you'. There were also things you could do  _beyond_ kissing, which Sherlock of course knew but never had any desire to attempt. Perhaps it had just lain dormant in him, waiting for the right blogger to come and wake it up, but Sherlock wanted. He wanted, he ached, he desired, he frenzied. It was glorious. He knew every tiny bit about John's body, and every bit of it was beautiful if anything was for certain. 

 

04.

_I have to tell you something. SH_

...? JW

_I love you. SH_

But?

_No but. That's what I wanted to tell you._

You daft git, I thought this was important. Couldn't you have waited to tell me that until I get off at the surgery?

_No, I need you to know right now. I thought you might not know. Right now._

Of course I know, Sherlock. 

_But not all the time._

What would possess me to forget that you love me?

_You've never seen me love before. It still surprises you that I have the capability. You're still worried that someday I will grow bored with you._

Don't be silly.

_I'll never grow bored with you._ _Old, maybe._

Okay.

Well.

Sherlock?

_Yes?_

I love you too. Just so you know right now.

_There's no need, John. Your voice is in my mind every minute. I've a very large brain but for some reason it insists on focusing on you, constantly. It's rather annoying._

You're a sap.

_Sentiment._

Yes. 

_I do hope you appreciate that I am breaking all my rules and, to be honest, indulging myself when it comes to you._

You're being very clingy today. I'll end my shift early and come home. You know, so you can indulge yourself. 

God, you're like a child. I'm just a glorified babysitter.

_You'd be a good father._

Would I?

Do you really think I could be a father?

_John._

_I think you can do anything._


End file.
